


Nostalgia at Its Finest

by justafeeling



Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Drunk prompt, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29241069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justafeeling/pseuds/justafeeling
Summary: Eduardo and Mark cannot forget about their Harvard days. There was always something left unsaid between them. Chapter 1 is Eduardo's point of view while chapter 2 is Mark's.
Relationships: Eduardo Saverin/Mark Zuckerberg
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12
Collections: The Prompt Network





	1. Eduardo

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, it has almost been a decade since I have written any kind of poetry or fanfics, so it's safe to say I'm extremely rusty at all of this. With COVID-19, lockdowns, and social isolation, I've felt drawn back to happier times of discovering stories within different fandoms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eduardo's point of view

I was drunk on you during our Harvard days.  
You made me feel off-kilter like I could easily float away, but you were my anchor, so of course, I’d never truly disappeared.  
The world seemed blurry at the corners.  
Everyone was dull in color compared to you since you were the single brightest star that glowed above the rest of them with your cleverness.  
I couldn’t look away then.  
I still can’t look away now.  
Why didn’t you see what was right in front of you?  
All those hopeful looks, casual arm touches, and many bar invites.  
Would it have made a difference in how we ended up if you had known my feelings?  
I’d like to believe so.  
That makes me an absolute fool.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mark's point of view

I used to drink Beck’s to forget about rejection, of feeling disconnected from the outside world while being a part of it.   
I recall all these minuscule moments with you, never understanding what they meant.   
Yet somehow they stood out, like the pleasant warmth of your hand on my shoulder on more than one occasion, that full smile that seemed to burn more brilliantly whenever it was directed at me.   
Now I drink until I’m drunk to forget about our friendship. Add to it the list of things people think I’m supposed to be sorry for.   
As if they knew about us, they don’t, especially after that damn movie came out.   
You weren’t my only friend.   
Perhaps you were more than that.


End file.
